


Naked Eyes

by lacqueluster (GG_and_MM)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist!Sam, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Sabriel AU, Sabriel Fluff, insecure!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_and_MM/pseuds/lacqueluster
Summary: When Gabriel agrees to pose naked for an art class he has no idea that one of the hottest guys he's ever seen will be drawing him.





	Naked Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @thinkwritexpress-official College Writing Challenge. Britt assigned me two prompts for this Sabriel fic. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Being a nude model for art students/classes because you need the money and “its’a good way to learn to love my body._
> 
>  
> 
> _“I’m a fucking theater major! Of course I’m dramatic!_
> 
>  
> 
> Please go send Britt some love for hosting this awesome challenge, and if you don't know her or her writing please check out her work, she's amazingly talented!

Sam looks around the art room. None of the other students seem as impatient as he is. He sips his coffee, taps a pencil on the table, then stops when he realizes Charlie is giving him the side eye. 

He glances at her. She’s checking her phone. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this class,” he whispers.

“Shut up, you love it.” She doesn’t even look up from her phone when she responds. “You’re the first one here every week.” 

She’s not wrong, but that’s just because Sam doesn’t like to be late. And yeah, he does like this class. More than he expected to really, although he didn’t think he’d hate it. But he’d argued with Charlie about taking it for far too long before caving. He kept telling her he didn’t have the time, between a full load at law school and working part time, a frivolous art class seemed like a needless stress to his already chaotic schedule. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. He loves this class; it’s the one he looks forward to all week long. It’s a chance to use his mind for something completely different than what he’s used to, a chance to be creative, to make something beautiful or ugly, something with meaning or something completely off the wall. 

Ok, so most of his stuff is ugly. But so what? He’s not a full time art student, no one in this room is. It’s him and Charlie, two women who are best friends, they look to be in their fifties, and then a smattering of men, ages thirties to seventies. None of them are professionals. All of them love this class. 

He looks around, knee shaking under the table. He wonders where this model is, and why Kelly, the teacher, doesn’t just start the class already, have them do something different this week, when the door bursts open. 

“Sorry I’m late!” A guy exclaims, tossing a backpack down on the counter by the sinks. He searches the room, eyes skimming over Sam, and then spies the teacher at the back. “I’m so sorry, I got caught up in the wardrobe department. Never knew it took so long to be measured. Do I just strip here?”

“No,” Kelly scurries to the front of the room, “no, right this way. You can change in my office, I’ve got a robe on the back of the door for you. It’s right through here.” 

She leads him away and Sam blinks, processing the flurry of activity. He’d been expecting a female model. That’s what they’d all been so far. Well, that’s what the two they’d had so far had been. He doesn’t know why the thought had never crossed his mind that they could even have a male model. Of course they could. That only makes sense. 

A few moments go by and the door to the office finally opens, the model trying and failing to cinch the robe around his waist. 

“This way,” Kelly leads the model to the center of the large room, all the artists ringed around him in a circle. “First pose is fifteen minutes, so choose something comfortable. Then we’ll do a few quick poses, just two to five minutes, you can be more creative then. Last we’ll do a sixty minute pose. I’ll have couple students bring a lounge out for that.” She motions her hand to a wooden chair, as if to tell the guy to have a seat. 

She addresses the students then. “Class, this is Gabriel, he’ll be our model today.” And with that she quickly moves to whatever she was working on at the back of the room. 

Gabriel tries to look at the students around him. He wants to see them without really _looking_ , try to tell if they’re disappointed in what they see, or maybe they’re pervs just waiting for him to strip. He can’t tell though because none of them seem to be paying attention to him. They’re all messing with pencils and erasers and whatever all the other stuff is that artists obsess over. 

He considers chickening out again. He hadn’t really gotten caught up in wardrobe, that was a lie. He’d almost ducked and ran when he got to the doors of this class. Well, in all honesty he had. He’d ran to the bathroom down the hall and hidden, wanting to turn tail and never look back. He couldn’t do it though, partially because of the money, 20 bucks an hour sings a tempting song after all, but also because he’d promised himself he’d do this. 

If he couldn’t find a way to love his body on his own then he’d never be comfortable in it, and he desperately needs to be comfortable in it, especially in front of people. So when he’d seen the add for nude models in the school paper he’d thought, what better way to get comfortable in your own skin than to show every centimeter of it to a room full of perfect strangers?

Ok, looking back there might be some fault in his logic there, but hindsight is 20/20. He’s here now and unless he’s going to run back into the teacher’s office it’s about time he stopped thinking and whipped this robe off. 

He closes his eyes briefly, pulls the belt on the robe, and lets it slide down his shoulders. He drapes it over the back of the chair and sits. He doesn’t know how to sit. He’s never really thought about sitting, it never seemed this hard before. Does he sit rigid? Hands in his lap? Cross his legs? Spread them? God no. He almost makes himself laugh at that thought. 

No one gives him any direction, so he decides to hold still, just as he is. He hears the distinct sound of pencil on paper, and he takes a deep breath. These people are looking at him. There’s nothing about his body that’s hidden, nothing that could be hidden even if he wanted to. 

He feels panicked for a few minutes, not able to process anything but the thoughts about the roll of pudge around his middle and how they’re all probably drawing him to look like a hippo. Soon, though, those thoughts are replaced by...nothing. There’s nothing. Just quiet, scratches on paper, him breathing, and a strange kind of calm, almost like meditation. 

Before he knows it the teacher is approaching the class again. 

“Ok, time for a change. Gabriel, I’m going to take the robe off the back of the chair so it doesn’t block the view of the students behind you.” 

He stands, feeling exposed again, extremely self conscious. He doesn’t let it show, though. He never does. 

“We’ll rotate the chair with each pose so that all the students get different angles to work with.”  
She tosses the robe aside and turns the chair. “Now, have a seat and try a more dynamic pose, something you can hold for a few minutes.” 

Gabriel has no idea what to do. She’s already walking away from him, rounding the ring of artists to appraise their work. 

He sits, then tilts his head back to look up at the fluorescent lighting, and then raises his arms out to his sides. 

Sam watches. He’d drawn the first pose rather distractedly, getting caught up on little details. The curve of a finger, line of the thigh, things that don’t need much attention when you’re sketching. He couldn’t seem to help it though, something about this model made him notice every detail of his form. 

Now Sam is staring at his eyes. His face is raised, strange profile on display, but what Sam can’t look away from is those eyes, golden brown and warm. The light catches them in a way that seems to make them glow. 

“Quit staring and draw,” Charlie whispers out the corner of her mouth, as inconspicuous as possible.

It startles Sam, and the “huh” he lets out is a little louder than intended. 

Charlie just shakes her head and ignores him. 

Sam looks back to the model. 

Gabriel hears someone say something and tries to shift his eyes that direction. He can’t really see them though because they’re to his side. He wonders what they said. Did they want him to move? Should he break pose and ask? He doesn’t, figuring if they really want him to they’ll speak up again. They don’t. 

Sam grabs his charcoals and sketches furiously. He doesn’t have enough time to work on anything but the face, he’s too caught up in the expression, the light, to get any work done on the body before Kelly is having the model move again. 

Gabriel’s shoulders burn in relief when she tells him to relax. “Whew,” he says to no one in particular, “thought my arms were gonna fall off there at the end.” There’s a few chuckles around the room at his words. He rolls his head on his shoulders, and glances in the direction that the voice came from while he was posing. The only guy in that vicinity is staring at him like he’s an alien. 

Gabriel looks away, now aware that he’s very naked in front of an extremely good looking guy. How hadn’t he noticed the big pretty one before? Oh right, because he’d been too busy having a crisis over how much he hates his body. 

He turns to face the teacher and realizes his ass is now on full display to the hot guy. 

“You ready?” She asks. 

He nods, shaking out his arms. He stays standing this time, putting one knee on the chair to rest. 

“That’s good,” Kelly tells him, and then reaches out to adjust an arm forward. “Let’s give them the illusion of some motion this time.” 

He nods and she walks off. He thinks about how good looking the guy behind him is. He can’t really have been _that_ good looking, could he? Gabriel had only seen him for a second after all. Nah, he couldn’t be. He was normal, and Gabriel is freaking out over nothing. It’s understandable in this situation. 

Sam felt like an idiot when the model caught him staring. He’d been openly gawking really, trying to take every detail of the man into memory. He’s never been this captivated by a model, probably because he’s never found one this attractive. Normally he draws in a calculated way, for a purpose, to have a picture. This time he’s drawing because he wants to _capture_ something. What it is he doesn’t know. 

The man, Gabriel, is facing away from him now. Sam lets his eyes rove over the width of the shoulders, down the curve of ribs and hip, around the most perfect ass he’s ever seen. 

“Psst, Sam,” Charlie whispers, so soft Sam barely catches it. “Stop checking out his ass,” she mouths at him when he finally tears his eyes away. 

Sam is sure his face flashes denial, because Charlie rolls her eyes and goes back to her sketch pad. A flush in his cheeks makes him feel stupid for being embarrassed. He’s supposed to be looking at this naked man after all, he’s just supposed to be drawing while he does it. 

He clears his throat softly, picks up his charcoal, and then Kelly is having Gabriel switch positions again. He missed it. 

Dammit. Sam glances over at Charlie’s paper. She brought pastels with her, and she’s got blushes of color at the corners of her sketches. That’s what Sam is missing. Why didn’t he think of that? This guy needs color, he should have seen it before. 

He has pastels but he didn’t bring them. “Can I borrow some of those?” 

Charlie gives him a withering stare for all of two seconds, before sliding them his way. “Use whatever you want, just quit drooling over the guy.” 

“Shut up, Charlie,” Sam looks around, but no one is paying attention to their conversation. Kelly is taking the chair out of the center of the room, and instructing Gabriel to crouch down. 

“Can you hold that?” Kelly asks. 

Gabriel looks up at her and nods. “Five minutes? I got this.” He’s squatting, basically, with his hands on the floor for balance. Someone in front of him has a nice view of his package. He’s not making eye contact with whoever that is. Instead he looks at the shoes in front of him. Some guy with black velcro straps, that’s who’s got the birds eye view of his balls. 

_Twenty dollars an hour,_ he tells himself. That’s damn good money, and they pay him in cash. Doesn’t get any better than that. 

He thinks about the work that needs to be done for the play coming up, what he needs to do, how much he needs to practice. Heck, he shouldn’t even be here right now. He should get up, get dressed, and go find someone to go run lines with. No, more like he should drop out of the play and switch majors. If he’s so freaked out about being naked in front of people that he makes himself late to a meaningless art class, how will he ever be able to go naked on stage? He won’t. He’s crazy for thinking he can ever do it. 

He pushes those thoughts aside when anxiety starts creeping in, and notices the ache in his knees. He’s relieved when the five minutes is up, and he’s moved into a kneeling position. 

“All these crazy poses are gonna give me arthritis,” he jokes with Kelly. She smiles at him, instructing him to shift slightly, and he sees the hot guy looking at him. 

Those gold eyes make contact with Sam and he almost drops the yellow pastel pencil in his hand. He looks down quickly, not liking the intimacy of staring at a naked man. 

That’s stupid and Sam knows it. 

He focuses on the bottom half of the body, thigh, knee, hand resting on it. He doesn’t get far before the pose is moved. 

Another crouching position, this time directly facing the hottest man Gabriel has ever laid his eyes on. He’d talked himself into believing this guy couldn’t possibly be as attractive as what he’d thought, and he was wrong. When he met those hazel eyes again, saw the pink in the cheeks, the way that tongue snuck out to wet his bottom lip, Gabriel had almost lost his balance. 

He felt like garbage when the guy had immediately looked away, like he couldn’t stand to even look Gabriel in the eye. That shouldn’t be a surprise though. That guys is way out of Gabriel’s league. He’s probably dating models, and not the pudgy, art class kind. 

And of course the pose after that is standing, once again with his ass facing the hot guy. This teacher must have a thing for wanting this guy to check out his ass. They move through the poses quickly, just two to three minutes at a time, and then she calls for a break. 

Gabriel snatches on the robe. Being naked had gotten easier, sure, especially when he wasn’t facing tall dark and handsome, but being naked when these people might actually talk to him? Nope. Not happening. 

He jokes with one of the older ladies about not spilling his coffee while she sips her tea. He chats with one of the male art students, not the hot one though, about the sketches he’s done. Gabriel has to admit, he doesn’t look half bad in them. He figures the guy is being kind, fixing his flaws as he draws, but it’s still a little boost to his ego. 

They’re about to start class again, and he’s watching the gorgeous guy and one other student carry a chaise lounge in from another room, when a bouncing, bubbly red head pops up beside him. 

“Hi,” she says, all smiles and mischief. 

He raises his eyebrows at her excitement. “Hey,” he greets her, downing his coffee. 

“So you’re Gabriel?” 

He purses his lips a little, nodding at the obvious. “That’s what they tell me. And you are?” 

“I’m Charlie,” she sticks her hand out to shake, and he obliges. “That big oaf over there is Sam, he’s my best friend.” 

Gabriel sees the big beauty set the chaise down a little too quickly, before spinning to see who said his name. His face looks mortified when he sees his friend talking to Gabriel. 

“You single?” 

Gabriel doesn’t process her question. The crushing realization that Sam, Charlie’s best friend, has turned so quickly and returned to his seat, that it must be an obvious indication of how disgusted he is by Gabriel. What Gabriel did to elicit this reaction he doesn’t know, but it’s not the first time it’s happened. People either like him or they don’t, there’s not much in between in his life. 

“Hmmm?” She’s prompting him for an answer. 

He’s being rude. 

He turns away from the rejection of the big oaf, tossing his coffee cup in the trash. She asked if he was single. Is he? Yes. There’s no one more single in the world than Gabriel Shurley. But she’s not his type, and even if he’s flattered by her interest he’s not going to lead her on. 

“No, sorry. I’m not.” 

She seems crushed, which is a much more emotional reaction than he expected. 

“Right, okay,” she forces a smile at him, “see ya.” And with that, she returns to her seat. 

Kelly has him recline on the chaise, legs crossed at the ankle, one arm draped behind him. The students have been arranged in a more U shape around him, so everyone has a view of him from the way he’s facing. 

She instructs him to hold his head in the most natural direction he can, because even though he’s comfortable now, holding still for an hour isn’t normal for a person. He’s going to get stiff and sore, so if he needs a break to let them know. 

Gabriel works his head back and forth, closing his eyes, and when he’s got it in the most comfortable position he opens his eyes. He’s looking directly at the hot guy, Sam. 

Of course he is. Just his luck. Oh well, if you’re going to stare at something for an hour straight it might as well be beautiful, he figures. 

Sam sets mesmerized for a second, not able to tear his gaze away. Those eyes looking at him are intense. He tries to remember that this guy is a model, just like the girl a couple weeks ago. He needs to look at him objectively, put all thoughts of attraction out of his head. 

Easier said than done. 

He picks up a pencil and starts on the face. One eye, the line of the prominent nose, sweeping curve of the lips, arch of the brow, all the while, as Sam studies these things, he feels like he’s being studied right back. When he thinks on it too much he feels himself blush. 

All these features, when picked apart individually, would be too big, too prominent, imperfect. But together, when placed on Gabriel’s face, they work. They’re interesting, engaging, something Sam can’t tear his eyes away from, and that he never wants to stop drawing. 

Kelly makes her rounds, slipping behind each student. So far she’s left Sam alone, but this time she stops, looking at the work scattered around his space. 

“Oh my, Sam,” she says softly, “you’re improving by leaps and bounds. These are beautiful.” 

Sam sees Charlie look over and smirk. “I think it’s the subject matter,” she says. 

Sam’s face flames with heat. He’s going to kill her after this class. 

“Well, whatever it is, it’s working for you.” Kelly pats Sam’s shoulder and moves on. 

He looks down at his paper, tongue and teeth working his bottom lip as he concentrates, eyes flashing up and down, back and forth between subject and work. 

Gabriel watches the exchange between Kelly and Sam, sees Sam blush at Charlie’s words, though Gabriel can’t hear him. He sees irritation flashing across his face. Sam masks it quickly, going back to work, eyes flitting between Gabriel and his paper. 

After awhile Gabriel starts to be uncomfortable. He wants to move his arm, uncross his legs, but he never wants to look away from Sam. Sitting here, naked and on display, he’s never felt more open. It’s like he and Sam are the only ones in the room, and Gabriel doesn’t try to hide his long stares at the beautiful man. 

When Kelly finally says the hour his up Gabriel is actually surprised. He hadn’t thought he’d been sitting that long. 

Sam stands, stretching, watching from the corner of his eye as Gabriel dons his robe. 

“I’ll be back, gonna use the bathroom really quick,” he tells Charlie, leaving his work beside hers on the table. 

Gabriel wanders the room, noticing Sam leaving. He immediately makes a beeline for the place Sam was sitting. 

Papers have been torn out of Sam’s sketch pad as he worked, and now they’re scattered haphazardly all around his work area. Gabriel’s face at different angles catch his eye, his body with hughes of gold and teal smudged in. They’re beautiful, and Gabriel can’t believe that they’re of him. It’s his face on that paper, but it’s too pretty, too perfect. 

When Sam enters the classroom and sees Gabriel standing over his workspace he panics. He doesn’t want Gabriel to see his crappy work. He should be looking at someone’s who’s good, someone who could do him justice. 

Sam descends on the table in a fluster, grabbing papers and stuffing them in his messenger bag. 

“Sorry,” Gabriel says, feeling like he’s just read the mans journal from the way he’s reacting, “didn’t mean to intrude.” 

Sam forces a smile that feels more like a grimace. “No, you’re not. It’s fine.” 

It’s not fine, Gabriel can tell by the way Sam is pushing pastels at Charlie so she can put them away. This man wants out of this room on the double. 

“Bye, Charlie,” Sam says, snatching at papers as they threaten to flutter away. “Nice to uh,” he looks at Gabriel, usure exactly what to say, “nice to meet you.” He turns on his heel and practically runs out of class. 

Charlie seems to appraise Gabriel for a moment, her head tilting to the side as she thinks. “Well, I better catch up,” she says after a second, “take care.” And with that she follows Sam out the door. 

Gabriel is left looking around, wondering if anyone else just witnessed the bizarre proceedings. 

“Gabriel,” Kelly calls from across the room, “get with me after you change so I can pay you.” 

That kicks him into gear. 

******

A week later Sam is standing at his desk, looking over the pieces he did in last week’s art class. He pushes them around, layering them, and wonders not for the first time if he should frame them. That seems narcissistic though. He’s not that good of an artist, he just got lucky that day. 

A knock at the door shakes him out of his thoughts. Charlie bops through the door before he can answer it. 

“You ready?” She asks, looking him up and down. 

“Yep,” Sam spins, showing off his suit, “what do you think?”

“I think you should have asked the model out,” she slaps Sam’s ass before ducking out the door. “Now come on, we’ll be late for the play!” 

Sam chases after her. “You know it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d asked him out. He told you he wasn’t single.” 

“Oh, whatever,” Charlie rolls her eyes, watching with amusement as Sam folds his tall frame into her tiny car. “I think he just said that because he thought _I_ was going to ask him out. Judging from the eye porn you two had going on, he’d have jumped at the chance to go out with you, Winchester.” 

“Shut up and buy a bigger car,” Sam teases. 

The auditorium is packed with people, hustling and bustling everywhere. Students, faculty, alumni, friends and family, all trying to get to their seats before the lights go down. 

Charlie studies her playbill, looking over the actors, commenting on people she knows in the wardrobe and set departments. Sam watches people, waiting for the show to start. 

There’s a hushed excitement, an electricity only present at live theater, when the massive room goes dark. 

Sam has never seen Hair, and he intentionally hadn’t looked anything up about the story so as not to spoil it. He’s immediately drawn in to the story of a farm boy on his way to war, stopping off in New York City. 

He’s dumbfounded when he notices a familiar face on stage. He doesn’t think that in all his life he’ll ever forget those eyes, that nose, the soft brown curls that he’d drawn so carefully at the base of the neck. 

Charlie slaps his knee. “Sam, look!” She whisper screeches. 

“Shhh!” Someone behind them admonishes. 

The exhilaration of being on stage is like nothing Gabriel has ever felt. There’s nothing like performing, standing in front of a live audience and becoming a different person, it’s completely addictive for him. It started the very first time he’d done a solo of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer in third grade. From that moment on he’d said he wanted to be an actor. 

And now, here he is, on stage in college, about to do his first nude scene. This is why he’d needed the modeling class, to try to feel some semblance of comfort in his own skin. Especially when surrounded by beautiful theater majors on all sides. And maybe he still doesn’t feel perfect or beautiful, but he definitely feels more comfortable, at least that’s something. 

At the end of the first act Gabriel prepares to take the stage, sans clothes. He’s nervous, they all are, but it goes off without a hitch. He’s riding cloud nine, nothing could bring him down from this. He wants to feel this way for the rest of his life. 

Sam about dies when he sees the naked entourage on stage. He wasn’t expecting it. He’s not shocked by it, he’s not a prude, but he’s surprised to see Gabriel amongst them. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised, obviously the guy is comfortable with nudity. 

Sam is captivated throughout the show, and at the end he’s on his feet with Charlie and hundreds of other people, giving a standing ovation. “Bravo!” People are yelling around them, and for the first time in his life Sam wishes he had some flowers to throw on stage. 

He can’t take his eyes off Gabriel. Every time the man came on stage Sam felt like he was holding his breath. Sam claps and whistles, never looking at anyone but the short man whose hands are linked with fellow actors as they take a bow. When the lights come up Sam swears Gabriel sees him, and he waves before he realizes what he’s doing. 

He immediately feels stupid. 

Charlie is jumping up and down. “Gabriel!” She’s yelling and waving. 

“Charlie, stop,” Sam holds her hand down, trying to calm her. “You don’t even know the guy.” 

“Sure we do, Sam.” She waves again. “We’ve seen him naked twice now. That has to count for something.”

Gabriel spots Sam instantly when the lights come up. Not surprising since the man is a head taller than everyone else in the audience. Thank god he didn’t know he was out there, he’d have been ten times more nervous than he was. 

He sees Sam wave, and he absolutely swears he’s waving at _him_ , and then Sam quickly ducks his arm back to his side. 

“Gabriel!” He hears his name distinctly from the crowd, and notices the bouncing red head by Sam’s side. 

She’s waving and flailing, and Sam tries to calm her. Gabriel smiles even bigger and gives her a quick wave before exiting the stage with the rest of the cast. 

“He waved, Sam! He waved at me!” Charlie exclaims. “I feel famous or something!” 

“Yes, quite the brush with fame you’ve had,” Sam grabs her hand to lead her from the row of seats. 

When they reach the lobby they slow, running into crowds of people talking and not moving. 

“Sam,” a gravelly voice calls. 

He looks over to see his brother Dean’s on-again off-again boyfriend, Castiel. He’s standing with a large group of family. 

“Hey, Cas,” Sam greets. “You enjoy the show?” 

Cas nods seriously. “Yes, my brother was in it. He did an outstanding job.” 

“Oh, cool,” Sam looks for a way to get to the exit but can’t make one out. He might as well talk while the crowd dissipates. “So, you talked to Dean lately?” 

Cas tilts his head, chin jutting out stubbornly. “Not in a few weeks.” 

“You know this fight is stupid, right?” 

Somehow Cas manages to look even more indignant. “It might be stupid to you but it’s very serious to us.” 

“Ooh, you didn’t tell me there was a fight on lover’s lane, Sam,” Charlie moves in closer to Cas. “What are you two fighting about? You spill something in the Impala?” 

Cas doesn’t bother responding to that. 

“Gabriel!” The name rings out around Sam like a chorus. 

He searches the crowd, and notices that it’s Cas’ family who’s yelling it. A few seconds later he spots Gabriel, his family closing around him in congratulatory hugs and cheers. 

Sam wants to run. He’s never felt so out of place in his life. 

“You were wonderful,” Castiel says. 

“Gee, thanks, Cassie,” Gabriel grins. 

“Sam” Cas turns toward him, “have you met my brother, Gabriel?”

Sam blinks stupidly. 

“Oh yeah,” Charlie intercedes, looking between the two dumbfounded men, “we’re old pals, right boys?” 

Cas seems uncertain as he watches Sam and Gabriel smile shyly at one another. 

Sam extends his hand and Gabriel takes it. Gabriel’s hand is smaller than his own, his grip strong and warm. 

“Nice job,” Sam manages, immediately hating his meek words. “You were really good,” he follows up with. 

“Thanks,” Gabriel notices they’re still shaking hands. He doesn’t bother to pull his hand away. “Not nearly as good as your art.” 

“Are you an artist, Sam?” Cas asks. 

“Oh yeah,” Charlie butts in, pushing Cas off to the side, “Sam’s the next Picasso. Didn’t Dean tell you?” 

“No, he never mentioned it.” 

“Figures,” Charlie sighs, “not much of a talker, is he? So, tell me what happened. What was this fight about?” She leads Cas away from Sam and Gabriel, making it appear that she wants privacy for their conversation. 

“No,” Sam and Gabriel carry on talking without missing a beat, “I suck at art. Just got lucky that day. Must have been the subject matter.” Sam can’t believe the words when they leave his mouth. He’s hitting on a guy that’s taken. He needs to chill. 

A smile takes over Gabriel’s face, laugh lines forming at the corners of those captivating eyes. Smiling suits him, Sam thinks, he has a face that was made for laughter. 

“Funny,” Gabriel says, “seemed like you weren’t a fan of the subject matter that day in class.” 

Sam blanches. “No, I,” he shakes his head, “it’s not that. I was nervous, I didn’t expect to be attracted to the model that day and it threw me off--” Sam cuts himself off before he says something else stupid. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’re not single.” 

Gabriel about falls over at Sam’s revelation of finding him attractive. He hadn’t expected that, and he doesn’t quite know how to process it. He shakes Sam’s hand some more. This is the longest hand shake known to man. 

“I’m not single?” Gabriel finally manages to say. 

Sam pauses. “No. Well, at least that’s what Charlie said.”

Gabriel’s eyes go wide before he screws them tightly shut in a grimace. “Oh that,” he looks up at Sam pleadingly, “sorry about that. I only told her that because I thought she was hitting on me. No offense to her, but she’s not my type.” 

Sam tries not to smile. “Oh really?” He ponders his next question. “So what’s your type?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gabriel looks around them briefly, before looking back at Sam. “Let’s see. I like ‘em tall, broad shoulders. Great hair, killer smile, cheekbones and a jaw that’ll cut a guy, pretty eyes, looks to be really fit under a suit. I like a guy that can draw, especially me, I tend to like attention, if you know what I mean. I prefer a good handshake.” 

Sam can see that this is never going to end, and he can’t help but laugh. “You know, I might know a guy just like that.” 

“Really?” Gabriel feigns surprise. “You’ve got to introduce me.” 

“Okay, well,” Sam clears his throat, “Hi, I’m Sam Winchester, and you are?” 

Gabriel straightens, tightening his grip on Sam’s hand as he goes serious. “Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Gabriel Shurley.”

Sam takes half a step closer, crowding Gabriel just slightly. Gabriel meets him squarely.

Sam looks down into those beautiful eyes. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

Gabriel fans himself. “You are one tall drink of water,” he tells Sam.

Sam smiles. “You’re a little bit dramatic, you know that?” 

**“I’m a fucking theater major, _of course_ I’m dramatic.”**

This gets a hearty laugh out of Sam, and if Gabriel weren’t still shaking hands he’d probably fall over at the beauty of it. 

Sam’s eyes shine when he looks back at Gabriel. “We should probably stop shaking hands.” 

“I don’t know, you think so?” Gabriel asks seriously. He can see the confusion on Sam’s face as he processes the question. “Only if you’ll hold my hand.” 

Sam feels the blush creeping into his cheeks. He tucks his head at the absurdity of it. He hasn’t felt like this since middle school, he doesn’t know what to do with the flutter in his belly. “Okay, deal.” Sam lets go of the hand shake and takes Gabriel’s other hand, threading their fingers together. “So, you think you want to go out sometime?” 

“You mean like a date?” 

“Yes?” Sam says, questioningly. What else would he mean? 

“What would we do on this date?” 

Sam pauses. This is putting him on the spot. “Whatever you want. You have any ideas?”

A devilish grin spreads over Gabriel’s face. “You could draw me like one of your French girls,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows up at Sam. 

Sam blushes from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

“That’s a pretty shade of pink you turned there,” Gabriel teases. “You still wanna take me out or did that cross the line?” 

Sam tries to hide a smile, running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Nah, I think I can take a few jokes about my art.”

“All jokes aside,” Gabriel says, “you sure you want to go out with me? You’ve seen me naked after all.” 

Sam doesn’t blush this time, he meets Gabriel’s eyes with determination. “Absolutely. You name the time and the place.”

Gabriel winks up at Sam. “How about now?” 

“Yeah, now sounds perfect.” 

“Good,” Gabriel says, tugging Sam along, “I want to introduce everyone to my hot date. Come on.”


End file.
